I think it’s time to dump Dexter. The guy has become something I never expected him too – a righteous bore – and I find myself no longer curious to know what might happen next to him.
This is not a lightly taken bailout. I’ve devoted some sixty or so hours of my brief life to this show, and the time has arrived when I must consider whether there aren’t other things I ought better to be doing. Like sleeping maybe, or finally cracking that pristine copy of David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest.
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 